


one more time, with feeling

by polterguy



Series: In which Jeremy has c-ptsd [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: (and vice versa), Bisexuality, Casual Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Lovers to Friends, M/M, Post-Canon, Self-Loathing, Squip and its effects only vaguely referrenced, Trauma-induced sex repulsion, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, gender stuff, michael is a good friend or at least he tries his best, mild PTSD, referenced past sexual assault, that sinking feeling when you realize someone you admired might not actually be a good person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23223343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polterguy/pseuds/polterguy
Summary: Jeremy is absentmindedly tracing the marks she always leaves on his collarbone with his index finger when he thinks that, no matter what, he’s got to stop doing this.He falls asleep knowing that he can’t.(Or maybe just won’t. He gets the two confused.)—or; It’s senior year and everything’s different. Jeremy is very very bad at self-care. Michael is more distant than ever. Christine is a good ex-girlfriend-turned-best-friend. Brooke has a crush on a girl. Jenna is pissed for various reasons. Everyone has a reason to be wary of Chloe Valentine.
Relationships: Brooke Lohst/Chloe Valentine (one-sided), Christine Canigula & Jeremy Heere, Jeremy Heere and Chloe Valentine but in the least romantic way possible, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell, Michael Mell & Jenna Rolan
Series: In which Jeremy has c-ptsd [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669771
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	one more time, with feeling

Jeremy is driving away from Chloe Valentine’s house for maybe the fifth time when he thinks that maybe what he’s been doing isn’t the best idea.   
  
It’s senior year, and everything is happening fast. Maybe it’s too fast for some, but not too fast for Jeremy, who is just waiting to get this all over with, waiting until he never has to see any of these people ever again.    
  


(Except for Michael.

He doesn’t want to never see him.)

Jeremy knows that sounds harsh. He’ll admit that it’s nobody else’s fault he can’t look them in the eye. Brooke and Christine are good people. Jenna, Rich, and Jake are all really trying to be. And Chloe Valentine, well.    
She’s not a monster, Jeremy decides.    
  
Jeremy is absentmindedly tracing the marks she always leaves on his collarbone with his index finger when he thinks that, no matter what, he’s got to stop doing this.   
  
He falls asleep knowing that he can’t.   
(Or maybe just won’t. He gets the two confused.)   
  


Michael hasn’t been texting as much lately, and Jeremy wonders if it’s because he’s jealous. It’s a stupid thought, but maybe not stupid enough to be false.    
When they text at all, Jeremy always has to start the conversation, and Michael’s replies seldom exceed one word. Or three words, if you count, “ha ha ha” as three words. It never used to be like this, and the new emptiness of it is twisting Jeremy’s heart. 

Chloe, however, texts Jeremy more than ever. Well, any amount of texts from her could be considered More Than Ever, because up until this semester she had never texted him at all. 

chloe  
  
meet me after lunch, jer.  
  


Jeremy isn’t sure if she’s allowed to call him Jer, since before, only Michael was allowed to call him that. 

He figures that it doesn’t matter what Chloe is allowed to do, because since when does she give a shit? 

  
  


It turns out that what she wants is to hook up in the janitor’s closet while everyone else is going to class.

Jeremy almost says no, if only because he has history next, which he’s already only a few points away from failing. But before he even gets a word out, he shuts his mouth and nods. 

_ (This is something we have to do _ , he thinks. )

Chloe Valentine is closing the door behind them and then subsequently pulling off his shirt. 

_ (It’s not like we really have a choice _ , he thinks.)

Then her own, then unbuttoning his stupid skinny jeans.

_ (Man, this closet is moldy,  _ he thinks.)

  
  


Jeremy is sitting on the floor inside a stall in the boy’s restroom. 

It’s fucking gross.

Jeremy has decided not to bother going to History class, even though it’s the one class he shares with Michael. It feels bad, but it feels better than going to class and letting Michael see how absolutely fucked-out-in-the-worst-possible-way he looks. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle that. 

He’s not really sure what he’s doing, sitting on a nasty floor instead of going to class. Maybe it’s just that being alone is the only thing he can think of that might help him in The Aftermath of Chloe Valentine. 

_ (Help?  _ he thinks.

_ What do we need help for? _

Maybe the fact that ever since Jenna Rolan’s Kwanzaa party, he’s been hooking up with the girl who emotionally traumatized him junior year? 

Nah.)

Jeremy gets up, steps out of the stall, and looks at himself in the mirror, pulling the collar of his shirt down. New marks bloom across his collarbone.

He makes a note to ask Christine for some of her stage concealer during play rehearsal.

_ Yes, play rehearsal. _ He still goes to that. As it turns out, he actually has somewhat of a passion for theatre. Despite all his anxieties, for some reason, he likes being onstage. Maybe it’s because, at least for a while, he can be someone else. Someone better than he is. 

Or maybe he just likes the attention. 

* * *

  
He’s still fussing over his appearance when Michael enters the restroom. 

“Jeremy?” Michael asks, like he didn’t know exactly where Jeremy would be. Jeremy quickly pulls his collar back up and takes his cardigan from around his waist to put it on for good measure. 

“Michael, hey!” Jeremy grins, turning swiftly. 

Michael steps a few steps closer, a concerned look shining through his dark eyes. 

“Jer, are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, for one, you aren’t in history class right now.”

Jeremy sighs.

“I’m fine, really. I just— just felt sick and wanted to take a break. I’m good now, though.” 

“You sure? Because I can drive you home if you need me to,” Michael says, innocently enough. Jeremy’s mood shifts. 

“I,” he says, stepping forward a bit, “can drive myself. I’ll be fine, alright?”

He doesn’t know why he said that. He  _ really _ doesn’t know why he said that. It’s hard for him not to snap at people, lately. It sucks.

(He can barely even drive to and from Chloe’s house without panicking that he’s going to hit something or someone, anyway.)

He knows he sounded like a defensive little bitch, and his heart sinks. 

“Oooo-kay, Jeremy. Just offering,” Michael’s still smiling, but the air feels tense now. “No need to get pissy.”

He starts to move away, rolling his eyes, but Jeremy rushes forward to grab his wrist.

“Hey, wait.”

“What?”

The thing about having your every action be hyper-analysed at all times for a good portion of your junior year is that, once you escape it, once you heal, you heal backwards. That doesn't make sense, but that's what it feels like. Suddenly shifting from never really doing anything to doing the first thing you think of is one hell of a trip, socially speaking. 

They look at each other for what feels like half a minute of silence, Jeremy still gripping onto Michael’s wrist.

“Thanks for checking up on me, you’re… um. A good friend,” he finally mumbles, head down. 

“Anytime, Jer.” 

He pulls Jeremy into a soft hug, and for some god forsaken reason he suddenly has to focus as hard as he can on not crying.

He succeeds, though, and when they finally pull away from one another, Jeremy’s eyes are dry. 

“...I should get back to class,” Michael says. “Text me if you need anything.”

Jeremy nods, even though he doesn’t want to text Michael later “if he needs anything.” he just wants Michael to stay right there a little longer. Because he still needs some things right now.

* * *

Jeremy spends the rest of the period in the restroom, checking all his apps over and over again in a cycle.

He washes his hands a few times, trying to scrub the dirty feeling off them.

He checks his phone again.

When the bell rings, Jeremy decides that he’s had enough down-time for the world, and heads up to the last class of the day.

It’s uneventful, as math generally is. 

It’s the one class of the day where he doesn’t know anyone, so at least he can study in peace.

Or at least, he should be able to. 

He would be able to.

Except.

Jeremy keeps thinking about the janitor’s closet and how even though Chloe Valentine, hottest girl in school, was topless and kissing him and - 

It didn't really feel very nice at all. Or like, objectively, physically speaking, it didn’t feel bad. That’s how erogenous zones work. 

It just kinda sucked and made Jeremy feel sick after.

That’s always the problem with him and Chloe, isn’t it? 

He knows she’s a pretty girl, and she wants him, and that should turn him on, right?

_ (Teenage boys are supposed to like sex and girls touching them and being straddled shirtless and-) _

Chloe has no idea.

_ (Does she?) _

_ (Well, obviously she doesn’t - why would she keep doing it if she knew I don’t like it?) _

_ (… _

_ Well. That’s a whole ‘nother can of worms.) _

He thought he got over hating himself Junior year.

“-Mr. Heere? Earth to Mr. Heere?”

“Wh- huh?” he sputters, and the class laughs. 

* * *

  
After the final bell rings, Jeremy pushes past people as politely as possible while still maintaining a reasonable speed. He really needs that concealer.

When he finally gets to the auditorium, Christine isn’t there yet, which is unusual for her. Brooke is there, though, looking around seemingly absentmindedly. 

Then, she notices him.

“Jeremy! Hey!” Brooke waves across the room, before jogging over to him. 

Brooke has her hair up in a messy bun, something she’s been doing more recently. She says it keeps the hair out of her eyes. 

“What’s up, Brooke?” 

“Not much, actually,” she responds, fiddling with a loose strand of hair that the ponytail-holder didn’t quite capture. 

“Have you seen Chloe today?” 

“Uh. I don’t know, maybe?” 

Jeremy internally cringes at how his voice cracks high on the transition between the “-i” of “may-“ and the “-bii” of “be”. 

(メイビー? Me-I-Bii?) 

(Jeremy thinks about phonemes.)

“-Jeremy? Hel-loooooo?”

“Gh— Sorry, what?”

“I said, did she seem weird to you?”

A beat.

“Because, well, she hasn’t really been talking to me as much? Which is… weird? Because, I mean, yeah, we had that fight last month, but we agreed we were cool and all. And she doesn’t really seem, like, angry or anything— She’s just, like. Not communicating really.”

Jeremy blinks.

“Uh, well,” he starts, carefully. (Careful in the way where he tries to make it look like he’s not trying-) “I dunno. Me and her don’t really talk or anything?” 

Brooke tilts her head like a confused puppy. 

“I thought - I just mean, like, you guys hang out, right? I thought you two were friends, because, you know, I’ll, like, see her talk to you in the hallway?”

She glances at Jeremy, who has gone stiff and glassy-eyed. 

“Jeremy?” 

“Well, we— uh. That’s just because—,” he starts, only to be saved by the bell when Christine opens the weighted auditorium door so hard that it closes behind itself with a startling  _ bang _ .

“Ahhhhh!” Christine announces, gesturing awkwardly by raising her arms at her sides and sort of squatting and slumping like a gremlin of some sort. Immediately changing stance, she sprints towards the two of them in the cute way that some girls do, bouncily and with her arms swinging daintily at the elbow. 

It’s not that Jeremy doesn’t always enjoy Christine’s presence anyway, but in this particular instance he figures that no guy has ever been this relieved to have been interrupted by the sudden arrival of his ex-girlfriend. 

(Jeremy and Christine had dated for roughly three months, and even then, the relationship had been off for weeks and it just took a while for Christine to say something. 

And really, it wasn’t a break-up or a dumping so much as it was a, “Can we just admit that this isn’t working?”

It was nobody’s fault, and it wasn’t as soul-crushing as one might imagine. They love each other, really they do, but Christine still wasn’t sure she was ready for a long-term relationship while she’s still figuring herself out. Jeremy wisely let her go, knowing that trying to prolong anything would do nothing but hurt more. He wisely insisted they remain close friends, and they still are.

Later, he unwisely started filling that void with someone he does not love and who does not love him and that’s when it all started to go to shit.)

* * *

Jeremy gets the concealer from Christine, who smiles wanly, joking that she’s glad that at least he’s getting some. Of course, she doesn’t know what exactly Jeremy’s getting or who’s providing it. If Jeremy’s honest with himself, he’s pretty sure that Christine thinks he’s been hooking up with either Brooke or Michael. 

(It’s funny how people just sort of assume he’s not straight now, for some reason. To be fair, he isn’t, he’s very much not-heterosexual. It’s just funny and/or scary how people seem to just Know.)

Anyway, he gets the concealer, which is stage makeup, so it’s thick and cakey but also incredibly opaque which is a plus. Still, Christine insists on putting that weird green stuff on the hickeys first, like always. She’s certain with her whole heart that it’s what makes the difference. 

Jeremy is keenly aware by now that he doesn’t deserve her.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey this is very much a work in progress, don’t bet on my updates being regular. HMU @localhaunting on tumblr  
> Thnx for reading I love you. Yes you, individually and specifically.


End file.
